


The Corner

by Wanna_be_goodr



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, M/M, my first post
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:22:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22304869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wanna_be_goodr/pseuds/Wanna_be_goodr
Summary: This is an abstract bit of nonsense I wrote when I should have been doing school work but I felt good after I wrote it and I realised... I remember why I like writing! Pls be nice if you read it and decide to comment, but don't lie 😉😊
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	The Corner

Throughout history, Aziraphale has made a lovely little place for himself in Crowley's mind, a *darling* little reading nook where the sun's position in the ever clear sky allows it to constantly and unobtrusively slant in through the large window onto soft tartan blankets and cushiony armchairs. Its a place where there's an endless supply of warm cocoa and good quality literature. Its a spot which radiates happiness and comfort and *home*. 

It is so completely *angel* that Crowley doesnt notice it at first, it is barely a hint of Aziraphlale, and just blends in with the demon's other memories neatly filed in his mind. But it grows, extending every few decades or so until it becomes a Thing. And at that point, its too late, he's too far gone. The angel on the wall of the Garden, who gave away his flaming sword to Adam and Eve, and who sheltered a demon from the first ever rain just because it was a Good thing to do, has well and truly taken root inside Crowley. He has taken him over entirely. Crowley gets used to being besotted with Aziraphale, and he gets used to the painful cycle of hope that he feels the same, despair because of course he doesnt, Crowley's a *demon* for someone's sake, and pining.

Crowley gets so used to the pining and the self pity and the pain that he doesnt notice when, in 1605, because the angel feels the same when he thinks of them both, 'Hamlet' joins 'Romeo and Juliet' on the ever-growing shelf of Aziraphale's favourites in the Corner. The plays are next to each other, one full of love and the other full of tragedy, just like the angel and the demon. But maybe some of the tragedy is the angel projecting, and perhaps some of the love is that, too. Crowley doesnt notice when, in 1780, the smell of earth, a reminder of a small dark cell beneath the Bastille joins the smell of *proper* Parisian crepes manifesting itself so subtly but so surely that it's almost as though it has always been there, the dichotomy of the two serving as a momento of the angelic damsel in distress and the demonic knight in shining armour. Crowley doesnt notice when, in 1941, the strains of beautiful swelling violin music become constant background noise and all the books that were almost destroyed in a Nazi bomning raid get their own shelf in the Corner that is fast becoming a Library.

It sticks out like a sore thumb against the cool, grey backdrop of the rest of Crowley's mind, which one would perhaps compare to a museum. It is spacious, well designed, and, architecturally speaking, its a masterpiece. It is *not* the kind of place one would expect to come across the cluttered, homey Corner of Aziraphale. Crowley's mind is airy, modern, minimalist, a practically perfect carbon copy of his flat, only larger and airier and modern-er. It is like Heaven, in its own demonic way, and so far from the crowded, deafening mess of Hell that Crowley can somewhat relax in it. The comfort and noise that comes with Aziraphale fights off the empty space and harsh contours of heaven, and so the angel seemingly would not belong in the demon's safe space, both of them craving what the other tries so hard to escape.

And despite this, the Corner in Crowley's mind becomes a place he frequents often, it becomes the place he goes to try to escape his escape. Throughout history, Crowley has thought some part of him, deep down in his dark and empty soul, missed Heaven, inclining him to recreate it in his flat (with some much needed colour-scheme changes). But Crowley has been, not unsurprisingly, wrong. The isolation he feels in his dark and empty flat and his dark and empty soul scares him, and he needs some clutter and some noise, but not the kind found in Hell.

The angel seemingly does not belong in Crowley's "safe space" because the angel IS, in fact, Crowley's actual safe space.


End file.
